


crashing not like hips or cars

by trishapocalypse



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Mild D/s, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, it's totally a thing, oh god this is basically porn like there's a little plot but not a lot?, this is also very self indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-15 23:58:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/855460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trishapocalypse/pseuds/trishapocalypse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick suggests that he and Harry cool it down while he's on the North American leg of the tour, and Harry doesn't take it that well. Thankfully, he's got Liam and Zayn to look out for him, though...not in the way he thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	crashing not like hips or cars

**Author's Note:**

> Guys, this is what I did with my Sunday. I wrote this in _one_ day because I couldn't stop. I, of course, completely blame Tari and a conversation we had earlier. So, this is your fault, and it's for you, Tari, and if you don't like it, I'll cry. (Except not really.) (Also the final Lirry scene was basically purely for Sam because of a gifset she sent me that I'm _still_ not over.) As always, hastily beta'd, all mistakes are mine, this never happened, I'm embarrassed, I hope you like it.
> 
> tumblr: @trishanthemum :)

The North American leg of the Take Me Home tour was just what Harry wanted and precisely what he thought he needed. 

The European leg had been fun, full of ridiculous and crazy fans that Harry just _loved._ There had been meet and greets and interviews and photo shoots but, most of all, there had been Nick. Nick, who Harry had met years before; Nick, who had constantly been by Harry’s side; Nick, who had become one of Harry’s best friends outside of the band. Harry couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it had become more, when it started, when they went from just watching a film to lazily making out on Nick’s couch, or when they went from lazily making out to heavy panting, the harsh sounds of skin-on-skin, and a countless number of nights spent in one another’s arms. 

But, it happened. And Harry was one of those extreme people, falling in love way too fast, without abandon, and that’s how it was with Nick. 

Well, maybe it wasn’t love. He wasn’t exactly sure. Harry had never been _in love_ before, but when Nick suggested they cool off, slow down a little, Harry was pretty sure what he was feeling settle in the pit of his stomach and in the middle of his chest was heartbreak. He was probably being a little dramatic, and he usually left that to Louis, but this was _Nick_ , and it was different. He understood where Nick was coming from, he really did; being famous had its perks, but it also had its drawbacks. One of those drawbacks, of course, being the paparazzi, ensuring that Harry couldn’t maintain any sort of private relationship with anyone, and Harry thought he could deal with it, and he did for a while. But where Nick was concerned, Harry wanted more, and when Nick said they should take a break while Harry was overseas, Harry couldn’t think of anything he wanted _less._

It started the day before Harry and the lads were supposed to fly to Mexico. Nick decided the night before that they should spend the next day apart, despite Harry’s protests, so Harry spent the day packing. He folded and refolded his clothes at least three times before they get on the plane. And if Harry is silent throughout most of the flight, he’ll blame it on jet lag; and if he’s silent while they’re at the beach in Mexico, only spending time with Lux, he’ll also blame it on jet lag. 

Harry expected the lads to figure out that something was up, but he didn’t expect Zayn to show up outside of his hotel room door, asking to come in. Which, in and of itself was a bit ridiculous because since when did one of his best friends have to ask for _permission_ to come into his hotel room? But he shrugged it off and let Zayn in, shutting the door behind him, and slumping down on the couch. 

“Nick texted me earlier,” Zayn announced, walking over to Harry’s hotel window and propping it open. He sat down on the ledge, straddling it, and he fumbled for his pack of cigarettes, pulling one out and lighting it up. 

Harry shrugged and wow, okay, so Nick was texting his friends but not texting him. That was—that was _great,_ actually. 

“Said you two were taking a break or summat?” 

Harry shrugged again. “Guess we are. He thinks it’s a good idea.”

Zayn nodded, taking another slow drag before stubbing out the cigarette. “Y’alright with that?”

“Guess I have to be,” Harry admitted with another shrug. He ran his fingers through his curls, pushing them off his forehead, and he propped his feet up on the coffee table. He contemplated turning on the television, but he wasn’t really in the mood to watch anything. He was trying to fight the jet lag, telling himself to stay up just two more hours so he could try to have a normal sleep schedule. But it had been weeks since he had gone to bed alone, gone to bed without getting off with Nick, and his body was thrumming with energy and adrenaline that he didn’t even want.

“You don’t have to be,” Zayn told him, standing up and closing the window. “Do you think the non smoking rooms are management’s way to try to get me to stop?”

Harry laughed and shook his head until it hurt. He rested his head against the back of the couch, a small smile on his face, and he was glad that Zayn was the one who came over; not Louis, who would’ve been annoying and wouldn’t shut up, or Niall who would just order room service and try to find porn on the television, or even Liam who, though he was Harry’s secret favorite person, would just worry about him and try to put him to bed early. No, Zayn was the best choice, because he didn’t feel the need to engage in awkward conversation, he was perfectly find with silence, and that’s what Harry wanted. 

(Well, what he _really_ wanted was to get off and go to bed, but he didn’t even have the energy for that, so.)

“The worst part about bein’ single on tour is the lack of sex,” Zayn said suddenly.

Harry’s eyebrows scrunched and he forced his eyes open, watching as Zayn shuffled across the room to sit on the coffee table next to Harry’s bare feet.

“I mean, yeah, we could easily find someone willing, but,” he shrugged, “s’not the same.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, drawing out the syllables. And, well, where was Zayn even _going_ with this?

“Can’t trust anyone these days, yeah?”

Harry didn’t respond. He folded his hands across his stomach and wondered if Zayn would be offended if he fell asleep on the couch, but he probably wouldn’t be. He nodded and his eyes drifted shut again. He could hear Zayn shifting around, figuring he was probably going to leave, but when he felt hands tugging on his gym shorts, his eyes flew open and he almost knocked Zayn over with how fast he sat up. “What’re you doing?”

Zayn shrugged, tugging Harry’s gym shorts and pants over his hips. He nudged Harry’s feet off the table, moving long enough to pull off his shorts and toss them aside, and he pushed Harry’s legs apart. “What’s it look like?”

“I—“ Harry was cut off by Zayn’s hand wrapping around him, slowly jerking him off until he was completely hard and leaking in his palm. Harry’s nails dug into his palms, his feet felt like they had been glued to the floor, and he couldn’t move. But, well, he didn’t really _want_ to, because Zayn was looking up at him, golden eyes wide, his tongue peeking out from between his lips and, okay. That was a change of pace. “What are you doing?” he asked again, his voice sounding deeper even to his own ears.

“Takin’ care of you. Liam’s idea,” Zayn told him, flicking his thumb over the head of Harry’s cock.

Harry sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and bit back a groan. “Liam’s idea was for you to suck me off?” he asked.

The corner of Zayn’s lips quirked upwards. “Who said I was gonna do that?”

“What else would you be doin’ between my legs?” Harry asked.

Zayn grinned wider because Harry had an uncanny ability to say something so suggestive but sound so innocent with his wide eyes and curls and, well. It wasn’t exactly Liam’s idea for Zayn to suck Harry off, but Liam _did_ say they should take care of him, and Zayn was nothing if not a good friend. And, well, what was a few blowjobs between friends, really? 

“Zayn, you don’t—“

“You don’t want me to?” Zayn asked.

“ _No,_ I just—“

“Because I won’t do it if you don’t want it,” Zayn told him, peering up at him.

Harry cursed Zayn’s eyelashes and cheekbones and basically everything about his face because, _damn,_ the lad was convincing. 

“You’re burstin’ at the seams with energy, mate. Let me do this, yeah? I want to,” Zayn assured him, thumbing the head of Harry’s cock again and watching as the younger boy’s back arched and his cheeks flushed.

Harry nodded, fingertips digging into the fabric of the couch as Zayn leaned down, wrapping his lips around the head of Harry’s cock. He felt Zayn’s tongue slide over his slit and he involuntarily bucked his hips upwards; Harry met Zayn’s eyes and he could’ve sworn Zayn was smirking, the _bastard_ , as he slid further down to the base of Harry’s cock, swallowing around him. 

Harry had gotten blowjobs before, many of them, most of them quite brilliant because Nick did this _thing_ with his tongue that Harry could never really remember or mimic, no matter how hard he tried. But Zayn, he was in a completely different category. He took his time, drew it out, but he wasn’t an outright tease; he would flick his hand at the base at the same time he would lick over the slit, and he had Harry breathless and writhing under him in what felt like seconds. 

Zayn slipped a hand down to Harry’s balls, rolling them between his fingers, as he pulled off of him. He watched Harry for a moment, the flush high in his cheeks, breathy little moans escaping his lips, eyes screwed shut, and he wondered why in the hell Nick would ever want to _take a break_ from Harry. Because Harry was gorgeous and mesmerizing and, Christ, Zayn was a sap, and that had to _stop._ Zayn wrapped his lips around the head of Harry’s cock again, sucking harder, slipping his fingers back to the soft skin behind his balls, rubbing against his hole just slightly without ever actually penetrating him.

Harry gasped, hips pushing down, wanting more, wanting whatever Zayn could give him. Harry reached for Zayn, gripping his shoulder and digging his fingers in. Zayn moaned around him, sliding his tongue along the thick vein on the underside of Harry’s cock, and Harry could feel the familiar building in the pit of his stomach. He pushed at Zayn’s shoulder, causing him to pull away with a soft _pop._

“What?” Zayn asked, licking his lower lip.

Harry whined as Zayn’s wrist flicked around the base of his cock. “M’gonna come,” he panted.

Zayn rolled his eyes and held Harry’s hip down with his hand, wrapping his lips around him and taking him in deep. Harry held onto Zayn’s shoulder as he slid his tongue along his slit and Harry came, a sob escaping his lips, and he slumped back against the couch. Zayn pulled away, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, and he sat back on his heels. 

“Fuck,” Harry whispered, and he shook his head as Zayn reached for his hands, trying to tug him up. “No,” he whined.

Zayn laughed lowly. “C’mon, Hazza, let me get you to bed, alright?”

Harry pouted but allowed Zayn to tug him off of the couch, and he instantly curled against Zayn’s side. 

Zayn wrapped an arm around his waist and walked him over to the bed, pulling back the blanket, and sitting him down on the mattress. He tugged the bottom of Harry’s shirt up, pulling it over his head. “Get some rest.”

“Stay,” Harry whispered, reaching for his hand and trying to pull him back towards the bed. “Please?”

Zayn hesitated because that wasn’t part of the plan, no, but Harry’s eyes were all dilated and droopy and he looked so lonely that he found himself agreeing. He slipped out of his clothes and climbed into the bed behind Harry, wrapping his arms around his waist. “Y’alright?”

Harry nodded, lacing his fingers with Zayn’s. “You’re good at that. Do it often?” he asked slowly.

Zayn laughed, louder this time, and he shook his head. “Only occasionally.”

“Hmm,” Harry said, pulling the blanket up around his shoulder. “Thanks.”

“S’not a problem, Hazza,” Zayn told him, pressing a kiss to the back of his shoulder before falling asleep next to his best friend. 

 

+

 

Harry sent Nick three texts, all went unanswered, and he was unhappy. It wasn’t that he was angry, he knew there was a time difference, and he knew that Nick was busy, but. But Harry just didn’t know why Nick wasn’t at least _texting_ him. He was cooling down, taking a break from Nick, whatever he wanted to call it, but he at least wanted to talk to him. After another text message went unanswered, Harry tossed his phone across the couch, barely missing Liam, and he groaned.

Liam looked up from his phone just in time to see Harry pulling a pillow over his face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Harry pouted, voice muffled because of the pillow he was still holding.

Liam picked up Harry’s phone and unlocked it, the passcode something that he and all the other lads knew, and he saw Harry’s messages to Nick, his unanswered messages. “He won’t even text you back?”

Harry shook his head. 

“He’s serious about this break thing, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, looks like,” Harry muttered.

Liam set his mobile down on the table in front of the couch, setting Harry’s next to it, and he stood up. He walked over to the door of the dressing room and locked it before joining Harry again on the couch, reaching for the pillow and tugging it away from his face. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Not everything can be fixed by talking about it, Liam,” Harry told him softly. 

“Do you want me to find Zayn?” Liam offered.

Harry felt his cheeks flush. “Why, so he can suck me off again?”

Liam paused. “He—What? Zayn,” he said with a sigh, shaking his head. 

“It was—“

“Not exactly what I had in mind when I said we should take care of you,” Liam interrupted. “Zayn has a habit of only half-listening and doing whatever he wants.”

Harry smiled, laughing lowly. “Why do you think you have to take care of me?”

Liam shrugged. “I know you, Haz,” he said. “You’re like a cat. You need affection and love and—“

“You make me sound so pathetic,” Harry muttered. “Maybe that’s why Nick wanted to take a break.”

“No,” Liam said. “You’re not blaming yourself. For whatever reason, Nick made his choice. There’s no reason why you should be miserable when he isn’t.”

“What if he is, though?”

Liam shook his head. “You and I both know he isn’t.”

Harry sighed. “Can I have my pillow back so I can actually suffocate myself this time?”

“Leave the melodrama to Louis; we both know he’s better at it than you are,” Liam told him with a smile.

Harry pouted. “Will you cuddle me?”

Liam nodded and crawled into the space between Harry’s legs, lying down against his chest. Harry wrapped his arms around Liam’s waist, settling back against the armrest of the couch. Liam knew that look in Harry’s eyes, he’d seen it enough, and he knew Harry well enough to know when he needed more. Liam scooted up a little bit more, Harry’s hands slipping under the fabric of his shirt, fingers pressing against the small of his back, urging him closer. It didn’t take any thinking on Liam’s part before he pressed their lips together.

Harry curled into Liam almost instantly, eyes slipping shut as Liam shifted against him. Liam cupped the side of Harry’s face in his hand, thumb pressed against his jaw, tilting his head down to change the angle and kiss him deeper. Harry moaned, low in his throat, and Liam slid a hand under his back to pull him closer; Harry ran his fingers up and down Liam’s spine, nails digging in when Liam shifted and rubbed their hips together. 

Kissing was one of Harry’s favorite things to do; sometimes he even preferred it to actually having sex (but not often). And Liam, oh Liam was _wonderful._ He was slow and took his time, memorizing Harry’s taste the inside of his mouth, almost as if he couldn’t get enough. And Harry was used to Nick, a little more rough and demanding, and it wasn’t _bad,_ but Liam was a nice change. And Liam had a way of making Harry feel treasured, cherished, and it was…yeah, different, but Harry could get used to it. 

There was a loud knock at the door and Harry could hear the other lads yelling, a general commotion, and Harry sighed. Liam sat up, distracted when Harry ran his tongue over his bottom lip, but another knock and a particularly loud yell from Niall made him shake his head. He stood, adjusting himself in his jeans because ten more seconds of Harry rubbing against him would’ve definitely caused a _problem_ ; Harry reached for the pillow, holding it in front of him, and watched as Liam walked over to the door, unlocking it and throwing it open. 

“What were you two doing?” Niall teased, grinning widely, before heading straight towards his bag and pulling out his phone charger. 

“Nothing, talking,” Liam said with a shrug.

Zayn sent him a look and, yeah, it was obvious that they hadn’t been _talking._ “Mmhmm,” Zayn said with a smile before joining Harry on the couch, crawling between his legs and taking the pillow that Harry had been clutching, tossing it aside. “Hi.”

Harry smiled as Zayn’s fingers threaded through his hair.

“Let’s switch; this is horribly uncomfortable,” Zayn told him, sitting up and trying to shove Harry off of the couch.

Harry laughed and stood, allowing Zayn to get comfortable on the couch before he crawled on top of him, looking over at Liam. 

Louis rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath about how maybe _he_ wanted a cuddle, which caused Niall to throw a pair of socks at him. 

Liam walked over to the couch and allowed Harry to pull him down. It was uncomfortable and a tight fit, the three of them on the couch, but Liam managed to curl around Harry’s back, an arm over Zayn’s waist, and it was actually quite perfect.

 

+

 

“Does it make you feel weird that we’re essentially sharing one of our best mates?” Liam asked Zayn backstage that night. They had ten minutes before they were to go onstage and Liam couldn’t stop thinking about what happened in the dressing room earlier. 

“You worried about sloppy seconds or summat?” Zayn teased.

Liam laughed and shook his head. “No, no part of Harry is sloppy,” he said quietly. 

“Does it make _you_ feel weird?” Zayn asked.

He shrugged. “No. I just…don’t want him to think we’re doing it for the wrong reason.”

“What would be the wrong reason?”

“Pity?” Liam offered. “He’s just…our best mate, you know? I want him to be happy.”

“And if being happy means having sex with him,” Zayn shrugged, “then we can sacrifice, yeah?”

Liam laughed softly. “You don’t feel weird about it at all, do you?”

“No, why should I?” Zayn asked. “You’re lying if you say you haven’t thought about having sex with him, yeah? He’s…ridiculous and attractive, and if he doesn’t have a problem with it, why should I?”

“Good point,” Liam said quietly. “And you’re right—about the, uh, thinking about having sex with him part.”

Zayn grinned. “Yeah, I know.”

“Shut up,” he said, shoving Zayn to the side but not before ruffling his hair. 

“Oi! Be careful, mate. Don’t damage the goods before the show.”

 

+

 

Harry probably should’ve felt a little worse about being so selfish, having both Liam and Zayn pretty much all to himself, but he _didn’t._ And while he still didn’t hate Nick, he couldn’t help but think that maybe he deserved to have whatever he had with Liam and Zayn because Nick wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. (Nick was wonderful in his own way but being with him wasn’t easy, even if it felt right.) And Harry really _liked_ it; he liked the way that either Liam or Zayn were always at his side or lying next to him at night.

It went from making out with Liam on a couch to snuggling with him under the covers, clothes shoved aside, Harry’s legs around Liam’s waist and, well. Sex with Liam was slow and unhurried; Liam took his time with everything, pressing against Harry’s hips and causing him to come undone in every way he could. Sex with Nick had never been selfish, but it had been rushed, because they were always so busy, but with Liam, it was like they had all the time in the world. 

After the first night with Liam, they were in Miami, where they rented a yacht on their day off to relax and cool down and, apparently, get high. And Harry didn’t care, pot wasn’t a big deal, but he still wanted to be alone. He secluded himself on the opposite side of the yacht and, well, if he took a picture of the sunset and sent it to Nick, it’s not like he could really _do_ anything about it. Because the picture was sent, the message _wish you were here .xx_ attached, and Harry was an idiot. (And if he woke up the next morning to no reply, well, that was Nick’s choice. And if Harry found himself knocking on Zayn’s hotel room door and collapsing against his chest, trying not to cry, that was _his_ choice.)

With Zayn, it was unlike Liam or Nick, because he was rough and demanding, he knew what he wanted, and he knew Harry’s body. Which was a shock for Harry because they’d only been messing around for a week or two, but Zayn _knew,_ he knew the best way, the quickest way to get Harry pliant in his arm, and he used it to his advantage. He knew that Harry liked getting fucked from behind, that he liked getting sucked off against a wall, and that if Zayn were to stroke his nipples afterwards then Harry would be asleep within two minutes. 

But one thing that set Zayn apart from Liam or Nick was the _teasing._ He was damn near relentless and he couldn’t even keep it contained to the bedroom, and it was driving Harry _mad_ because teasing was one thing, but he was pretty sure whatever Zayn was doing was torture. And when they were in Columbus, a candy thong was tossed onstage, and both Liam and Zayn somehow managed to convince Harry to try it on. (It really only took the request because Harry realized he was absolutely useless at saying no to whatever Liam or Zayn asked.) So when Harry slid the apparatus and Zayn leaned forward, biting some of the candies off of the elastic, looking up at Harry from under his thick, dark eyelashes and— Harry doesn’t even know how he made it through that show, but he _did_ , and had it been any other night, they would’ve had a hotel room to themselves, but they didn’t. 

They didn’t get to stay at a hotel for two more nights, and no amount of tour bus-backstage-dressing room-bathroom blowjobs with Liam _or_ Zayn was enough to take the edge off. So by the time they got to the hotel, Liam promised to bring Harry’s bags up and Zayn practically dragged him up to the room, because he knew they weren’t fooling anyone. And Zayn had the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign hung up in less than three seconds, closing the door to find Harry pulling off his clothes and tossing them aside.

Zayn had Harry in his arms and he was licking into his mouth in an instant. Harry reached for Zayn’s jeans, pushing them down his hips along with his pants. They stumbled towards the bed but wound up in the oversized chair instead, Harry straddling Zayn’s lap, grinding down against him. Harry threaded his fingers through Zayn’s hair, their kisses turning sloppy, and Zayn pulled away slowly.

“Jeans—pocket, condom,” Zayn told him, sucking in a deep breath.

Harry nodded and stood up, his legs shaky, and he crossed the room to pull Zayn’s jeans off the floor. He fumbled through the pockets, grinning when his fingers found the foil condom wrapper and a packet of lube, and he turned back to see Zayn slowly stroking himself in the chair. “Oi, hands off,” Harry said, walking back over to him and slapping at Zayn’s hand.

Zayn smiled and grabbed Harry’s hips, turning him around and pulling him back against his lap. 

Harry pushed his hips back against Zayn and he felt his slick fingers at his entrance and, oh, okay, Harry didn’t even know that Zayn had taken the packet of lube from him but, he had, so. Harry moaned as Zayn twisted his fingers inside of him, pushing them in deep, spreading him open. 

Zayn slipped his fingers out of Harry and he slid on the condom, pressing against Harry’s hole.

“Don’t tease, please,” Harry whined. His hands gripped the armrests of the chair and he pushed his hips back against Zayn, the head of his cock catching against his rim, and Harry moaned. 

“Alright, yeah, guess you deserve it,” he whispered against Harry’s ear, guiding himself towards Harry and sliding in quickly in one deep thrust. 

Harry tightened around him, his stomach muscles clinching. Zayn reached around his chest, pulling him back and thrusting up into him. Harry moved against him, grinding in small circles, and Zayn grabbed Harry’s knees, pushing them apart, causing himself to slide deeper into him. “Zayn—“ Harry panted as Zayn grabbed his hips, holding him steady as he fucked into him.

“Touch yourself,” Zayn told him, mouthing at the side of Harry’s neck.

Harry’s head fell backwards against Zayn’s shoulder as he wrapped his hand around himself. He gripped himself tightly, fucking into his fist at the same pace Zayn fucked into his hole. Zayn slid his hand from Harry’s waist to the inside of his thigh, thrusting deeply. “M’gonna—“

“Yeah, okay,” Zayn said, panting. He raked his fingers over Harry’s nipples and he felt his muscles contract under his hand. Zayn thrust faster into him, hearing little moans and gasps escaping Harry’s lips.

Harry sped up his hand, Zayn’s name escaping his lips like a prayer, and he came. Zayn smiled and he thrust once, twice more into Harry’s pliant body and he released inside of him, a moan escaping his lips. Harry sunk back against Zayn, breathing heavily, allowing Zayn to grab his hips, lifting him up long enough to pull out of him, and he turned to press a kiss against Zayn’s neck.

“C’mon, let’s get you into bed,” Zayn told him.

Harry whined, taking a minute to regulate his breathing, and he let Zayn lead him over to the bed. He crawled under the covers and watched as Zayn walked around the room, picking up their clothes and tossing them onto the couch, but not before pulling out his pack of cigarettes. Harry watched as Zayn propped open the window, smoking a cigarette before flicking the ashes and stubbing it out. He kept the window open, just enough to feel the wind, and he grabbed his phone, sending Liam a quick text. “You gonna join me?”

Zayn looked over at him and smiled, nodding before climbing under the covers next to him. Harry curled around Zayn’s body instantly, a content little sigh leaving his mouth. “Liam’s gonna bring us our bags in the morning,” he told him.

Harry nodded. “You’re the best.”

 

+

 

The text from Nick came two days later, after their Scavenger Hunt, when Harry was watching a movie on the bus with Liam and Zayn. Liam knew something was wrong by his body language, the way his body tensed and he stopped paying attention to the film that was playing.

“Y’alright?” Liam asked quietly.

Harry nodded slowly, not wanting to disturb Zayn who was lying on his lap. “Nick texted.”

“Oh,” Liam said before pausing. “About?”

“I don’t—Just asking how—how tour is.”

“That’s odd,” Zayn muttered. “Doesn’t talk to you for almost two weeks, now out of the blue—“

“Zayn,” Liam warned.

Zayn rolled over and looked up at them. “It’s true, and you both know it.”

Harry sighed. “Yeah. Should I—Should I text him back?”

Liam shrugged. “It’s up to you, Haz.”

“I say make him wait,” Zayn said.

“Just…be careful, whatever you choose, okay?”

“I will,” Harry said, because Liam was full of advice but it was usually good advice. But he texted Nick back anyway, nothing too committed, but enough—hopefully.

Liam leaned over, tilting Harry’s face towards his, and he pressed a soft kiss against his lips. “You sure you’re alright?”

Harry nodded. “Liam, can I—“ 

“What?”

“Can I stay with you on the next hotel night?” he asked, hoping his cheeks weren’t flushing as bad as he thought they were.

But Liam just smiled fondly and nodded, pressing his lips against Harry’s and threading his fingers through Zayn’s hair. “Yeah. That alright with you, Zayn?”

Zayn nodded. “As long as I suck him off before the show tomorrow, have at it.”

 

+

 

"Liam, will you—can you—" Harry cut himself off, a gasp escaping his lips as Liam ran his tongue over his collarbone.

Liam bit into the tan skin lightly before running his tongue over the bruise. His thumbs were digging into Harry's hips and the smaller boy was arching his back, desperate for more friction. "Can I what?" Liam asked quietly, not wanting to break the mood just yet.

Harry wrapped his arms around Liam's neck and pulled him down, pressing the long line of their bodies together as Harry covered Liam's mouth with his own. Liam moaned into the kiss as Harry nipped at his lower lip, hips arching off the mattress to rub against Liam's. Harry pulled away, moving his mouth down the side of Liam's neck, biting over his birthmark as Liam rutted against him. Harry's cock was straining against his stomach, the lack of actual friction between their bodies almost frustrating, and Harry fell back against the mattress with a groan.

"Harry," Liam started softly, his breathing uneven. Harry's curls were mussed, his green eyes blown wide, and he looked...well, Liam couldn't even find a _word_ for it. He looked debauched, ruined, _sexy,_ and Liam couldn't get enough of it.

Harry sucked in a deep breath, fingers fiddling with the hair at the base of Liam's neck. "I need you to...hold me down," he said quietly.

Liam's dark eyes widened and he slowly sat up, Harry's hands falling from his neck. Their erections were still pressed together, Liam was straddling Harry's thin hips, asking Liam to hold him down and—wow, okay, add _that_ to the list of things Liam was never expecting to happen on tour. "I—What?"

"Please," Harry whined, a flush high in his cheeks as he pushed his hips off the bed.

Liam barely bit back a gasp as Harry rubbed against him. The thing was, Liam could do it. He could hold Harry down, fuck him until he couldn't walk, bruise him, mark him, anything that Harry wanted, but. But Liam knew _himself_ and he knew it wouldn't be enough, knew he probably wouldn't be able to stop, and that—that worried him. Because he'd seen Harry helpless, helpless and wanton and he...wouldn't be able to stop. "I don't want to hurt you," he choked out, running the soft pads of his fingertips over Harry's hipbone.

Harry groaned, running his hands through his curls and tugging at them. "What if I want you to?"

Liam sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. "Harry—"

"S'not like m'asking you to, like, beat me or whip me or summat," he interrupted. "Just—hold me down, spank me, tie me to the bed—I don't _care,_ I just need more." Harry was a rambling mess, cheeks still flushed, and Liam briefly wondered if he was embarrassed or turned on…probably the latter.

Liam paused; he didn't want Harry to be embarrassed to tell him what he wanted. He nodded slowly. "You want me to...be rough with you?"

Harry nodded eagerly. "Yeah, like—" he trailed off and lifted his hips again, hoping to get a little more friction between their bodies. Liam grabbed Harry's hips roughly and pushed him back against the bed, holding him down, fingers digging into his skin, and Harry moaned loudly, his back arching. " _Yes,_ God, jus' like that, yeah," Harry panted.

And Liam, well, he could get used to that. He could get used to the way Harry's eyes darkened and his voice deepened and, okay. He could do this, he told himself, and he could do it without taking it too far. "Lemme know if it's too much?"

Harry nodded quickly, his curls falling into his eyes and he reached up to push them away.

Liam shifted against Harry's hips, scooting up a little further, dragging their cocks together. Harry hissed as Liam settled against him, heavy on his hips, and when Liam wrapped his fingers around Harry's wrists, pinning them to the mattress above his bed, he was positive he'd never seen Liam so _sexy._ Liam covered Harry's body with his own, mouthing roughly against the side of his neck, rubbing their straining erections slowly against one another. He pressed Harry's wrists harder against the mattress when he struggled and he heard Harry's shoulder pop, and he pulled away, "Are you—"

"M'fine," he assured him.

"But, like," Liam started slowly. "Do you need a safe word or something?"

Harry smiled, flashing his dimple. "I trust you."

And just like that, Liam understood. Well, maybe not completely, but he was starting to get it. He briefly wondered if Harry was the same way with Zayn or Nick, demanding and begging and so damn _pretty,_ or if it was something he reserved just for Liam. He supposed it didn't really matter, but he filed it away for another day to ask Zayn anyway, because he really _had_ to know. But not yet, because Harry was still spread out on the mattress, cheeks flushed and eyes wide, breathing heavily, and Liam definitely had other things on his mind.

“Turn over,” Liam instructed, pulling away.

Harry nodded and flipped over on the bed, balancing on all fours, and he felt Liam’s hands slide over the back of his thighs, thumbs ghosting over his hole, before stopping at his lower back. “Liam—“

“Can I—You trust me?”

Harry nodded again.

“Good. Don’t move.” 

Harry felt Liam climb off of the bed and he heard him walk over to their bags, fumbling with the zipper. Less than a minute later, Liam was pressed up against the back of his thighs again, cold fingers pressing against his entrance, and Harry pushed back against him. He let out a sigh as Liam prepared him quickly, not slow like he normally did, which was already new, but Harry’s body was on fire. And as soon as Harry had adjusted to Liam’s fingers, they were gone, the head of his cock pressing against his hole. 

“Give me your arm,” Liam said, grabbing Harry’s hips and pulling him closer to the edge of the bed. He spread Harry’s legs out, hearing the younger boy moan, and he stood between them, reaching for one of his arms. He pulled it around his back, pushing Harry down until his chest was against the mattress, and he reached for his other arm. “Hold your arms together, yeah?”

Harry nodded, his cheek pressed against the mattress, and his fingers grasped his forearms. Liam’s hand was still heavy at the small of his back, folding over his wrists and holding him down. His back was burning but it was so, so good, and it was Liam, and it was just—so much. 

Liam positioned himself at Harry’s entrance, sliding the head of his cock between his cheeks, teasing, and he felt Harry shiver. He pushed in quickly, using his right arm to brace himself against the mattress as he began to thrust into him. Harry gasped at the angle, his cheek rubbing against the rough material of the blanket, his cock lying thick and heavy between his thighs. 

“Liam—“ Harry gasped, causing him to thrust faster, harder. Harry briefly wondered if he was going to have some sort of rug burn on his chest because the blanket was fucking _rough_ but, God, it was _so_ good, and it was Liam. It was Liam who was taking over, taking control, holding Harry down and fucking into him roughly. Harry’s thighs were burning, his back twisting almost uncomfortably as Liam held his arms down.

Liam brought his left leg up to balance on the mattress, causing his cock to sink deeper into Harry’s tight heat and hit his spot with every thrust.

Harry was a mess of moans and sobs, and he was close, so close. He wanted to reach around, just touch his cock, but he didn’t want to at the same time. “Liam, so close—“

“Do you wanna touch yourself?” Liam asked.

Harry smiled briefly, thinking it was amusing because Liam, who was fucking into him so roughly that Harry was positive he was going to bruise, his voice sounded so soft at the exact same time. “Don’t let me,” he choked out.

Liam nodded and tightened his grip around Harry’s wrists, grunting as he fucked him faster. Harry was trembling, his thighs weak, clenching tightly around Liam’s cock. Liam watched in awe, wondering if it was actually possible for Harry to come just from the pressure of his cock against his prostate. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, Liam’s thrusting relentlessly against him, and he felt his eyes tear up as he came suddenly, releasing over top of the bed spread. Liam moaned and let go of Harry’s wrists, grabbing his hips and holding him in place as he fucked him faster.

“Come on me, Liam, I want you to come on me, please,” Harry rambled, his voice low and husky.

Liam moaned because, Christ, who could say no to _that?_ And he pulled out of Harry, ripping off the condom and tossing it aside. He wrapped his fingers tightly around the base of his cock and he jerked himself off quickly until he came over Harry’s hole, pink and open and fucked out and wet, and _fuck._ Harry moaned when he felt Liam’s release trickle between his cheeks, against his hole, and he smiled, collapsing against the bed. Liam instinctively reached out, rubbing his thumb along Harry’s hole, smearing his come around, and Harry pushed back against him.

“Too much,” Harry whispered, reaching up to rub at his eyes.

“Sorry,” Liam said, jerking his hand away quickly.

Harry shook his head. “You’re okay.”

Liam smiled fondly and he lifted Harry up easily, sliding him under the blanket. “Stay here.”

“Not sure I can actually walk after that,” Harry said with a lazy, sated smile on his face, his dimple deepening. 

And Liam took three steps back before he climbed on top of Harry for another round because he was almost positive that neither of them actually had the energy for that. He retreated to the bathroom, grabbing a wet flannel, before returning to Harry’s side and cleaning him up. “Are you alright?”

Harry smiled and a small giggle escaped his lips. “M’perfect,” he told him. “Honestly. Best sex ever.” His eyes were blown wide and his cheeks flushed, he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, and he looked so bloody _innocent_ that Liam didn’t even understand how he did it. 

Liam smiled, cheeks flushing slightly, and he cleaned himself up before tossing the flannel aside. He crawled under the sheets, his chest against Harry’s back. “You flatter me, Mr. Styles.”

“Mmm, you’re the best,” Harry told him. “Really and truly.”

“Thank you,” Liam whispered against the soft, tan skin of Harry’s neck. 

“Can you call Zayn? I wanna cuddle him, too.”

Liam nodded and briefly leaned across Harry to grab his mobile from where it was charging on the nightstand. He dialed Zayn’s number and it took absolutely no convincing on Liam’s part to get Zayn into his hotel room. In less than three minutes, the door was opening, and Liam was glad he gave Zayn his spare key. Zayn shed his clothes on the way to the bed, crawling under the sheet and letting Harry curl against his side.

“Vas happening?”

Harry giggled against Zayn’s neck. “You smell good.”

“What did you do to him, Li?” Zayn asked, a smile on his face.

Liam shrugged. “Nothing, really—“

“Best sex ever,” Harry interrupted. 

Zayn laughed, running his fingers through Harry’s hair. “Hey, Hazza?”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t wanna ruin your good mood but, uh, Nick rang me earlier.”

Harry pouted. “What did he want?”

“Asked why you weren’t texting him back.”

“Zayn, not now,” Liam said quietly, shaking his head. 

“No,” Harry interjected. “S’fine. I’ll…text him later, whenever I want to.”

“What are you gonna do when we get back to London?” Liam found himself asking, even though he knew it wasn’t the right time or place to ask.

Harry shrugged. “Not sure. Don’t wanna stop this,” he admitted.

“Well, why would you want to give up the best sex ever?” Zayn teased. “Though I do think you should be more objective. I could be the best sex ever, too.”

Harry giggled. “I’ll give you both a fair shot.”

Liam pressed a kiss to the side of Harry’s mouth. “Do what you think is best, Harry.”

“He always does,” Zayn assured Liam, reaching around Harry to ruffle Liam’s hair. 

Harry smiled and tugged Zayn closer, the three of them enveloping one another, and it might’ve been dysfunctional, but it was perfect for them.


End file.
